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@emily-waldorf

Thanks!

 

Evie

Evie stared in shock at the terrors occurring around her. Thanks to Niarok, she’d come through unscathed, but that man’s death had made her sick.

They were apparently up against an unbeatable force.

Now Niarok and his sister were getting threatened with death at the hands of a traumatized assassin, and Evie couldn’t decide whether she would rather try to help or run away.

The one-legged man who had apparently been the dead man’s little brother was hysterical.

He leapt up and grabbed a crutch, which he used to run and fall frantically.

Towards the knife.

Evie felt her heart leap into her throat.

No. They’d had enough death for one day.

She’d tried suicide once. Never again.

Never again.

The man’s hand made contact with the knife, and he crouched like he was trying to figure out the best place to stab himself.

Evie yelled, ran, and tackled him from behind.

She grabbed his wrist in one hand and wrenched the knife free with the other.

“Put that down!” she cried, rolling off him and standing, tucking the knife in her belt where he couldn’t get it.

He curled into a fetal position, crying, and Evie’s heart broke for him.

She saw herself in him.

She’d been called a coward thousands of times. It had never bothered her until it began occurring to her that maybe she wasn’t one. Then it nearly broke her.

She pulled the knife around behind herself so the man couldn’t reach it, then she knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I know your brother just died and you hate yourself, but don’t make a bad decision until you’re calm. Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way.”